


Poppy for Us

by Aerys_Krystie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:15:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28977264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerys_Krystie/pseuds/Aerys_Krystie
Summary: Derek is captain of the newest expansion team, Milwaukee Mantas. In their second season, they draft rookie hotshot Jackson Whittemore. Over the seasons, Derek watches as Jackson’s health deteriorates, unsure on how he can help. Who knew that being in love with their captain was unhealthy?
Relationships: Aiden/Lydia Martin, Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore, Ethan/Danny Mahealani, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Poppy for Us

**~Poppy for Us~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

 **Theme:** AU – NHL.

 **Plot:** Derek is captain of the newest expansion team, Milwaukee Mantas. In their second season, they draft rookie hotshot Jackson Whittemore. Over the seasons, Derek watches as Jackson’s health deteriorates, unsure on how he can help. Who knew that being in love with their captain was unhealthy?

 **Warnings:** Slash, language, on-ice violence, OOC, OC.

 **Disclaimer:** Everything of and referring to _Teen Wolf_ is not mine. This is a fan-made, non-profit story. Please support the official release.

 **Author’s Note:** Ages have been changed. This probably didn't need to be AU, but I enjoyed it. Also, there will probably be mistakes. I'm sorry if there is.

* * *

Seeing Jackson Whittemore again after three years was interesting. His face had matured, seeing those sharp cheekbones that could cut someone’s hand. He wasn’t the kid from college. The kid’s smile was bright, his eyes sparkling as he shook hands with the team in the locker room. He seemed made for meeting people, appearing warm and friendly, despite the tiredness in his bones from jetlag. The other four rookies joining their team followed Jackson, letting him pave the way for them.

Watching him memorize the name of his teammates, Derek Hale shook his head as he taped the blade of his stick. He remembered Jackson from juniors, both attending the same college. Jackson had the softest hands Derek had ever seen, loving to play with the toe of his blade more than anything else. He remembered the way Jackson moved along the ice, the sheer determination in his eyes to break every goaltender’s shutout streak. He almost did it, too. There wasn’t a goaltender he couldn’t score on, except for two.

The others were from different colleges, except for Scott McCall who trailed Jackson, not nearly as confident as the former. The other three tried to appear confident with their first meeting of the team in the locker room, but their smiles were a little forced. Derek had no idea what they expected of them. Maybe some kind of hazing for the rookies? That wouldn’t come until the season started. They had finished training camp and were ready to start pre-season. They had to know that the pranks wouldn’t start until later.

At him, Derek just grinned and dropped a gloved hand on the perfect hair, messing it up. Jackson pulled his head back, glaring playfully at him. “Welcome to Milwaukee,” he said as he leaned on his stick.

Jackson looked at him, lowering his eyes for a moment as though he wanted to say something. Instead, he looked up and smiled again, going to his locker. He shook hands with the others, except Scott, whose hair he also messed with, as he couldn’t show anyone he felt differently about players. He told the rookies to change and meet him out on the ice, while the rest of the team exited the locker room. He knew that first practice was always torture. It had been last season and it would be this season.

Coach Finstock was on the bench, going through some papers. “I want five laps to the right and then five to the left,” he said without looking up. “Get that blood pumping, boys.”

The team muttered and buckled their helmets, starting on their laps. By the time they were moving to the left, Jackson and Scott had joined them. They were talking as they joined the pack, talking about the stats of the team’s previous year. Derek was not happy with how Milwaukee’s inaugural season went. They did worse than _Detroit_. That was embarrassing. After the Vegas Golden Knights made it to the Stanley Cup Final, there was pressure on them to achieve the same thing.

They didn’t.

Their captain wanted to be traded and Derek had the ‘C’ slapped on him. It was his first season as captain and he had no idea what he was doing. He could terrify the players into doing better, but he got the feeling that wasn’t what Finstock wanted. Derek figured the best way to inspire the team would be to lead by example. If he played his heart out, the others should follow suit.

By the time they finished their laps, Finstock glanced up. “Rookies, five laps to the right. The rest of you, five laps backwards to the right and then to the left. Some of you need to work on your turns. I’m looking at you, Greenberg.”

As the team snickered, the rookies started on their laps. Jackson took the lead, still as energetic as always. Scott couldn’t keep up with him and dropped back to speak with Dunbar, while Lahey tried to keep up with Jackson. The rest of the team did their backward laps, joined quickly by Jackson on their second lap around. Derek always enjoyed the way Jackson utilized his edges, almost like an art.

The first one to lose an edge was the rookie Dunbar. Derek went to help him up, but Jackson was there as well as Scott. There were laughs and chirps, before they continued with their laps. Derek smiled as he watched them. It was always good to see rookies bonding on the ice. They would likely be rooming together on the road, so they needed those bonds.

Once their laps were done, the team crowded by the bench. Finstock looked them over, as assistant coach Argent set up something on the ice. “Last season was abysmal,” Finstock said as he looked over the team. “From what I saw, Greenberg needs to spend more time with PT Stilinski.” He looked at Greenberg. “You’re really out of shape. What did you _do_ in the off-season?” He shook his head and held his hand up. “I don’t want to know. Let’s look at the ice, shall we?”

The team turned around and Derek was certain he heard Jackson panting as they saw the cones set up. Precision work. Finstock really believed their puck handling was sloppy, poor quality and overall shit. Derek didn’t disagree, but he still hated precision work. Somehow, he could never get it right when it counted.

“And we’re watching Chris,” Finstock said as Chris nodded at him.

The team watched as Chris went through the course, starting at one end, moving the pucks between cones. Past that, they had to saucer the puck over three bars, then put the puck through three holes at different heights. Move up and around the net, handle it through another set of cones, shoot into mini-nets and then score on Danny Mahealani, which could be the worst part of the entire exercise.

“See how easy it is?” Finstock grinned at the team. “Who’s fir—Okay, have at it, Whittemore.”

Derek watched as Jackson moved through the first set of cones flawlessly. His saucer passes were perfect. He had no issue getting the puck to stick to the blade and move the puck through the holes. He glided along the ice easily, toe-dragging the puck through the next set of cones. He nailed all four shots into the mini-nets and sniped the top shelf on Danny, before joining the rest of the team.

“See? Easy.” Finstock regarded Jackson seriously. “Nice toe-dragging, Whittemore. Boyd, you’re up next.”

Derek watched closely as the team went through the course. All of them completed it, none as easily as Jackson. He was the only come that close, but the damn mini-nets kept getting smaller, he was certain of it. He couldn’t score on Danny, either. After some more laps, they were finally allowed to cool down and hit the showers. Derek slapped their helmets as they stepped off the ice. All of them had done decently for their first practice.

Glancing up, Derek frowned when he saw Jacksons till on the ice, playing with a puck. Shaking his head, Derek smiled and joined the rest of the team in the locker room. He pulled off his training gear and joined them in the gym, jumping onto a treadmill. As it was their first practice, most of the team wanted to head home so they could relax and enjoy time with their partners. Derek was with them. He didn’t have anyone waiting at home for, except an uncle and a sister, but it was better than nothing.

* * *

Pre-season went by and Derek wasn’t surprised to know that Jackson had no issue being in front of a crowd. Granted, the crowds weren’t that big during pre-season and for the month of September, but he still played it up. Dunbar and Lahey had a slight issue with nerves during their first few games. Derek wondered why they would get into a sport if they had suffered from performance anxiety, but spoke with them and figured it was from their young age and inexperience that had them worried. As soon as the regular season started, they were fine.

As time went by, Derek realized that Jackson a bit of an oral fixation. He needed to chew something, usually his mouthguard during practice and games. If they were at a restaurant, he would chew on the straw of his drink. When they were in hotels, his favorite thing to chew was pixy sticks. If he didn’t have anything to chew on, he would use his thumb or the drawstrings of his hoodie.

Unfortunately, there were a few times that Derek was caught staring at him, especially when they were at dinner. Boyd was the first to see him staring and the chirping began. “You got a thing for the rookie’s mouth, Haler?”

“Or is that you’d prefer him to chew something of yours?” Aiden asked with a shit-eating grin, dropping an arm around Jackson’s shoulders.

“Wouldn’t that make you jealous, Aiden?” Derek asked with a smirk. “Having someone else chew something of mine?”

Jackson grinned around the chewed straw, while Scott groaned. “Do we gotta get that personal at the dinner table, guys? I’d like to keep my food down.”

“Speaking of keeping it down,” Boyd said and shot a look at Isaac. “When you’re on the phone to your girl, could you warn me, so I can suffocate myself?”

As the team continued to taunt the others for their personal phone calls, Derek glanced at Jackson, who was asking Scott if he had packed the extra pixy sticks. His eyes were still on the straw that was being gnawed on and the tongue that swept across the lower lip. Their food was placed in front of them and silence fell over the table for a few minutes as they ate, before the conversation turned to the next team they were taking on. Derek’s interest in Jackson’s fixation was forgotten.

\--

Derek discovered more about Jackson than he did in the year they had together in college, before Derek was drafted. Aside from the oral fixation, Jackson liked old movies, especially in the war genre. Jackson enjoyed spending time around the team, especially at their houses. Derek learned that one of Jackson’s close friends was dating Aiden, Lydia. She was the perfect hostess for the barbeque one weekend.

The team had won three of their five away games and were looking forward to relaxing that Saturday. No one could turn down Aiden and Lydia’s invitation to their condo for the day, good food and good drinks, great company. Derek received a hug from Erica, Boyd’s girlfriend. He had heard Boyd speaking with Isaac about the chance of popping the question, which had him smirking at his alternate.

Jackson spent a lot of the time in the kitchen, talking with Lydia and Danny. Derek spent a lot of his time outside, around Aiden, Boyd, Isaac and Liam, who was slowly coming out of his shell. The rest of the team was in the living room, watching some terrible reality TV show. So when he entered the house and saw how close Danny and Jackson were standing, the way their hands touched, he froze and stared at them.

Derek had no issue if any of his players were gay. As long as they were happy and they got their partners to sign an NDA, he didn’t care who they slept with. He just never thought that any of them would be. If they were, he hoped they would tell him. He never wanted his team to feel like they had to lie to him. Though, he hadn’t come out as omnisexual, with a preference for women.

“Hey, guys,” Derek said, surprised when Danny and Jackson looked up at him and smiled, but didn’t pull apart. “What’s happening in here?”

“Peace and quiet,” Danny said, smile changing to a grin. “But I might see what the guys in the living room are up to,” he added.

Derek leaned against the island, keeping his face blank as Jackson stared after Danny, looking entirely betrayed by him. “Something wrong, Acker?”

Jackson blinked at him, but smiled and shook his head. “No.” He cleared his throat and drank his water, before he refilled it. “What brings you inside?”

Derek shrugged. He couldn’t remember why he came inside. “It was a little too cold out there for me,” he said, frowning as Jackson cleared his throat again. “You got a sore throat?”

“Just a tickle,” Jackson answered and swallowed.

Derek stepped around the island and grabbed Jackson’s face, trying to keep it as professional as possible. It wouldn’t look good for him if the team knew he had a crush on a rookie. “Does it feel sore there?” he asked, applying slight pressure under the jaw joint.

Jackson pulled his head back, shoving at Derek halfheartedly. “It’s fine, Haler. Probably just something in the wrong pipe. You don’t need to worry.”

“That isn’t going to stop me, Acker.” Derek ran his eyes over Jackson. He didn’t look sick, aside from the throat clearing. “Do me a favor and see a doctor?”

Jackson cleared his throat and nodded, stepping as far as possible from Derek. “I will.”

Danny came back into the kitchen, sighing disappointedly. “They’re watching old movies. Your fave, Jacks. War.”

Jackson grinned and practically ran from the kitchen. Derek frowned. He enjoyed old movies, as well, but he thought he was having a good conversation with Jackson. “Did I do something wrong, Melan?”

Danny shook his head, grabbing a beer. “No, Haler. He’s just trying to work up the nerve to tell you something. Oh, by the way, I’m gay. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure every potential partner signs an NDA.”

Derek smiled, pulling Danny in for a hug. “Glad to hear it, Melan. Also, practice safe sex. You’re one of the reasons why we’re doing so well this season.”

“I think that’s just good advice, Cap’n,” Danny said and headed for the backdoor. “But I will.”

\--

Against Calgary, Derek realized that he and Jackson work well together on the ice. Somehow, he always knew where Jackson would be and Jackson knew where he would be. Between the pair of them, they scored six goals and sent the Flames back to their dressing room with their tail between their legs. They celebrated hard that night and Derek was shifted to Jackson’s line for the next game.

Both of them figured it was luck. As they spanked Arizona, Derek knew it was some kind of intuition. He came to realize that he always knew where Jackson was. He didn’t need to look around the locker room to know where Jackson was standing. He didn’t need to search for him at the bars or restaurants. Even when they visited the homes of others, he always knew where he would find Jackson.

So Derek wasn’t surprised when he walked into the bathroom at a teammate’s house and found Jackson washing his hands. “I’m starting to think you’re following me, Haler,” he said with a smile.

Derek frowned at Jackson’s reflection. “Something wrong, Acker?”

Jackson dried his hands and turned around. “Break up,” he said with a shrug.

Derek nodded, though he was frowning inside. He had no idea that Jackson was seeing someone. “I’m sorry, man. It’ll get better.”

“Doesn’t stop it from sucking now, though. Future me doesn’t have to deal with…this.” Jackson waved a hand in his face and Derek smiled, pulling him into a hug.

“I’m sure future you will be thankful that present you went through it, though.”

“It’s probably for the best, anyway. He complained about signing the NDA.” Jackson sighed and pulled back. “Thanks, Haler.” He gave a small smile and left the bathroom.

Derek watched him go, realizing that Jackson had said ‘he.’ Unsure if Jackson meant ‘she,’ Derek ignored it. When he was ready, he would come out to his captain, if he could. After using the bathroom, Derek joined the team in the living room for some Mario Kart, surprised that Jackson was sitting on the floor, pixy stick in his mouth and going through his phone. Typically, the younger teammates enjoyed kicking the asses of the older players.

The break up had to be harder than Jackson was letting on. Maybe it was time to spend a little more time with the kids of the team, just to make sure everything was fine with them.

\--

After some shuffling, with others wanting different roommates, Derek ended up with Jackson sharing a hotel room with him. Knowing that he was with Jackson, Derek made sure he had a decent supply of pixy sticks. Jackson glanced at him and nodded, looking like hell. Derek didn’t feel any better, as they had gotten in late. Both stripped and Jackson sat on the corner of the bed, shoving a pixy stick into his mouth, staring at the TV.

Derek showered and came out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. He grabbed his underwear and spun around when Jackson gave a soft cough. “Are you getting sick?”

Jackson kept his eyes on the TV and shook his head. “Breathed in sugar,” he said and coughed again.

“Probably a sign that you shouldn’t have sugar before bed,” Derek said as he pulled on his boxers and removed the towel. He frowned as Jackson coughed again. “Acker, you sure it’s only the sugar?” Jackson nodded, eyes still glued to the TV. “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

Jackson finally looked at him, half of the straw in his mouth as he chewed on it. “Course not.”

“Good. We have a game against Boston tomorrow.” Derek passed Jackson on his way to the bathroom and placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “We don’t need our leading goal scorer getting a stroke of bad luck because he’s embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Jackson stated, a slight lisp to his voice, before he coughed again.

“I thought you were getting that checked by a doctor?”

“I did. It was just a tickle in my throat, like I said it was,” Jackson said as he stood up and removed most of the pillows from the bed.

“I’m just worried about you, Jackson,” Derek said gently and Jackson stopped his assault on the pillows.

“I know,” Jackson said quietly and pulled back the covers of the bed. “I’m going for a shower.”

“Take the straw out of your mouth first,” Derek said and grinned as Jackson growled, but threw the straw out.

After checking the time for the game, Derek checked his social medias and replied to a few messages from his uncle and sister. By the time he was done, he realized that Jackson was still in the shower. Raising an eyebrow, Derek stood and knocked on the door. There was a cough and the shower was turned off. Figuring that Jackson hadn’t managed to almost drown himself in the shower again, Derek turned to his bed and removed the pillows, getting under the covers. He turned off the lamp and stared at the TV.

Once Jackson was dried, dressed and under the covers, Derek glanced at him. “Goodnight, Jacks.”

“Night, Haler.”

They lost in overtime to Boston.

\--

Boyd decided to hold a movie night in his hotel room. It was a tight fit, but everyone found space to sit, most players on the floor. Those on the bed had their laps filled with smaller players. Derek pulled Jackson to his lap, grinning at the bewildered expression on his face. They were sharing a room. It would be easier for him to carry Jackson back, if he fell asleep again.

Jackson settled against him and Derek felt him tense when the movie started. Horror movies and Jackson didn’t mix well. Liam didn’t do well with horror, either, but as he was sharing with Isaac, he just snuggled into the left winger’s side. Derek ran his hands over Jackson’s back, giving him a massage, trying to get him to relax a little and giving him an excuse to feel up the right winger. Jackson turned his head away as someone was killed on screen, closing his eyes. There was a soft whimper from Liam, which resulted in other players cooing and crowding around the winger, trying to hug the fear from him.

“Did you want to head back to our room?” Derek whispered as a woman screamed on screen.

Jackson nodded, the pixy stick almost forgotten between his lips. Derek stood up, announced they were heading back to their room and for Boyd to pick better movies next time. The pair picked their way past the others, saying their goodnights and went to the elevator. Derek glanced at Jackson, who had his head down, shoulders still tense. His throat was tensing, as well.

Going down to their floor, Derek opened the door and went in, Jackson following a step behind him. “You gonna be okay to sleep alone?”

Jackson’s head snapped up, looking like a deer caught in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler. After a few seconds, he swallowed and nodded, glancing at his bed. “Should be. If not, don’t be surprised if you wake up with me in your bed.”

Derek laughed, mostly because he wanted that. “All right,” he said as he stripped. “You excited to take on Tampa Bay?” He glanced over his shoulder, seeing Jackson’s pale back for a moment. He ran his eyes down it and quickly looked away.

“Mm,” Jackson hummed and Derek heard pillows hitting the floor, as well as a cough.

“Jacks, you gotta stop eating pixy sticks before bed. You seem to inhale more sugar than you actually eat,” Derek said as he gave Jackson a pat on the back.

Jackson coughed again and straightened, playfully pushing Derek back. “I’m fine, Haler. You worry too much.” He cleared his throat, tongue wrapping around the straw as he sat on his bed. “Why do we let Boyd pick the movies for movie night?”

Derek shrugged as he removed the pillows from his bed. “Probably because no one else wants to. The last time Barrer and Lazer picked the movie, we had to watch _Hop_.”

Jackson laughed. “I forgot about that! Man, you, Boyd and Truth had such sour looks on your faces.”

“Not all of us are as insane as you are about candy.” Derek huffed, not sure if his expression was _that_ sour during the movie. He could think of a dozen better movies to watch than that one, though.

“And yet you always have more pixy sticks than I do,” Jackson said with a shrug. Derek’s eyes widened for a moment when he was hugged from behind, before he enjoyed the closeness. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. Please don’t take my stash away.”

“I think you’ve had enough sugar tonight,” Derek said as he turned around and Jackson stepped back, a look of complete betrayal on his face. “For every goal you score against Tampa Bay, I’ll give you a pixy stick. How’s that?”

“Isn’t bribery against the law?” Jackson asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

“I can always flush them,” Derek said as he went to his suitcase and grabbed the bag that had the pixy sticks, stepping towards the bathroom.

“No!” Jackson sighed, chewing on the straw. “Fine. Only because you’re weird about sugar.”

“I’m only thinking about your health,” Derek said as he put the bag back in his suitcase. He grinned when Jackson huffed, but it dropped when the huff became a cough. “I didn’t think there was any sugar left in that one.”

Jackson turned away, body shaking as he coughed. Once he was done, he continued to shake for a few moments, before he turned around and smiled. “Apparently there was just enough to make it annoying. Night, Haler.”

Derek frowned as Jackson got into his bed. “Goodnight, Acker.”

Jackson scored twice against Tampa Bay.

\--

Their last game before the Christmas break was an away game, against Toronto. Derek wasn’t entirely sure how it happened, but when he and Jackson got back to their hotel room after celebrating their victory, they spoke. Then Derek tackled Jackson onto his bed, nuzzling into his throat, which had Jackson screaming with laughter, until he broke off into a cough. Derek pulled back, staring down at him. Jackson ran from the bed, slamming the bathroom door and coughing. Not the usual coughs. It sounded as though he was trying to hack up a lung.

“Jacks?” he asked, knocking on the door when it finally went quiet,

“Sorry, Haler, I think I inhaled all the sugar from that pixy stick.” Jackson sounded terrible, out of breath and like his throat was raw.

Derek frowned. “You didn’t have a pixy stick tonight.” Jackson had been chewing on the straw from dinner.

“I choked on something. Maybe it was own saliva. You were tickling me.”

Derek nodded slowly, resting against the door. “Is that why you’re still in there?” He blinked when the toilet flushed. “Jacks, is everything okay?”

A minute later, Jackson opened the door and gazed at him. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Derek saw Jackson’s phone in his hand. “You sure?”

Jackson smiled and nodded, his lashes still wet from the tears of the coughing fit. “Of course. I wouldn’t lie to you, Haler.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, almost certain that Jackson constantly lied to him about the cough. Since he usually was chewing on a pixy stick, he couldn’t say that it wasn’t him breathing in sugar. Instead, he nodded and went to his bed, removing his suit. They undressed in silence and said goodnight, getting into their beds. Jackson rolled over, his back to Derek, who turned off the lamp. There was a soft cough and then silence.

After the Christmas break, Jackson requested a new roommate.

\--

Nearing the end of the season, Derek was getting more worried about Jackson. The right winger was clearing his throat a bit too much and drinking more water than necessary. As he was rooming with Scott, Derek asked him if Jackson was all right. Scott basically shrugged, not noticing anything wrong with him when they were on the road.

After a home game win, Derek hung back in the locker room, while the rest of the team went to a local restaurant. Jackson had a slight cough, which he was trying to force back. “What’s wrong?” Derek asked as he sat beside Jackson. The right winger shrugged. Derek placed a hand on the back of Jackson’s neck. “Your girl break up with you?”

Jackson looked at him, before he turned away to cough lightly. “I might have a slight cold,” he said, shivering as Derek massaged his neck. “I’ll be fine by our next game. I promise.”

“Don’t force yourself, Acker. If you need to take time off to get better, take it.” Derek smiled and Jackson stared at him, eyes slightly glazed, before he nodded and stood up, undressing. “There’s no one giving you shit on the team, is there?”

“No!” Jackson stared at Derek, shoulder pads almost off. “Why would you think something like that?”

“You seem quieter than usual,” Derek said as he stood up, looking down at the winger. “You would tell me if the guys were going too hard on you, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course I would, Mary,” Jackson said with a smirk and Derek growled. He hated that nickname, which seemed to be why Jackson loved it. “I’m fine, Haler. I’m probably just not used to all the travel or something.”

Derek nodded and stripped down, ignoring the soft cough from Jackson. “All right. If you’re not any better by our next game, I’m telling Finstock.”

There was a slight pause. “Okay.”

Derek smiled and glanced over his shoulder, looking away slowly when he saw that Jackson was naked. They showered and left, Jackson in a thick jacket, shoulders hunched and head down. Derek frowned, wondering what was wrong with him. No one on the team had gotten sick. He was hoping it was a cold and not something far more dangerous for the winger’s health. They couldn’t afford to lose Jackson.

\--

Their next game was in Chicago. If they won the game, they would be in the Playoffs and Chicago wouldn’t. If Chicago won, they would be in the Playoffs and Milwaukee wouldn’t. Needless to say, the game was hard fought. Jackson took many body checks. Number 43 in red took just as many checks, as well. The game was more physical than any of the others they had played in.

The locker room after second period was relaxed. Jackson was getting his shoulder checked by Stilinski, as he had been tripped late in the period and crashed into the boards. While that was happening, Danny was speaking to the backup. Derek approached Jackson and Stiles, watching as the winger rotated his arm and nodded at Stiles, letting him know that it was fine.

“You bullshitting us, Acker?” Derek asked, staring down at Jackson.

“What good would I be to the team if I fucked up my shoulder even more before the Playoffs, Haler?” Jackson asked and gazed back at him, before he turned his head away and coughed.

Derek frowned and crouched down. “I thought you were over that,” he whispered. “Have you seen a doctor about it? Is it serious?”

“I’m fine,” Jackson hissed with a glare. “I can finish the game and I _will_ get us to the Playoffs.”

Derek held his hands up as he stood. “Okay. As long as you’ve been cleared by a doctor.” Jackson nodded.

The game went to a shootout. As the teams gathered at the benches, so the coaches could decide who would be the first three shooters, Derek looked at Jackson. The winger was staring down at his skates, chomping on his mouthguard. He was completely lost in his own world that he jumped when Finstock called his name.

“You’re up last, Whittemore,” Finstock said.

“If you win this, I’ll take your skates off for you,” Derek said with a grin.

Jackson stared at him, before he turned his head and gave a small cough. He nodded at Finstock, who narrowed his eyes at him. “That clearance I got from the doctor, was that from a real doctor?” he asked.

“If you don’t care about where he got his medical license from, then yeah, he’s real,” Jackson said with a shrug.

“I’m having you checked out by the team doctor after this game, Whittemore,” Finstock said and Jackson nodded. “After Hale has taken your skates off for you, of course.”

The team grinned and Danny returned to his crease. As the shootout went, Danny was able to stop the first three of Chicago’s attempts. It fell to Jackson, who was circling in their third. He went at the puck with speed, before he slowed down and put the puck over the netminder’s glove on his backhand. Milwaukee were going to the Playoffs. The team crowded the ice, everyone trying to hug Jackson as well as each other. Jackson pulled back from them and tackled Danny to the ice, hugging the goaltender as tightly as his padding would allow.

Once they finally made it to the locker room, Jackson went to his locker and began undressing. Derek frowned and crouched down in front of him. “What are you doing, Haler?”

“Removing your skates, like I said I would if you won the game,” Derek said with a shrug.

“It’s all good, man.” Jackson kicked his feet under the bench and Derek blinked at him. “I’d have won it even without you offering that.”

“I still offered it and I don’t go back on my word,” Derek said.

“It’s fine,” Jackson snapped and the locker room fell silent, eyes turning to them.

Jackson flushed, before he dropped his head and coughed softly. Derek nodded and stood up, going back to his locker to mostly undress. He had seen the media outside the locker room and knew they would want some soundbites from him on their win and his thoughts for the Playoffs. He prayed he could concentrate, as he knew Finstock would rush Jackson back to Wisconsin to have him checked out.

\--

Being told that Jackson had a lung condition didn’t help Derek to focus on the games. Jackson was going under the knife the day of their first game against Vegas. Derek kept it from the team, as he knew Finstock would have made an announcement instead of calling him. He wasn’t told anything else, except that it was a condition that would have him recovering for the next six weeks and keep him out of the Playoffs. One of their best players had a lung problem.

Looking around the locker room as they geared up for their game, Derek wondered if any of the others had it. Finstock hadn’t mentioned if it was contagious. Scott seemed fine and he had spent the most time around Jackson off the ice. All the rookies were fine.

Danny was the first to notice Jackson’s absence. “Where’s Acker?”

“Out sick,” Finstock said. “He’ll be fine for next season, but he needs to miss the rest of this one.”

Derek knew he had to keep it together. As he stepped onto the ice to a screaming home crowd, he tried to push it to the back of his mind. Jackson should be out on the ice with them. What if something went wrong during the surgery? He tried to push that thought away. Danny was Jackson’s best friend and he didn’t seem bothered by the fact that Jackson was in a hospital.

 _You can see him after the game._ Derek inhaled the chilly air as the national anthem was sung, staring down at the ice. That was the best he could do. He could only hope that Jackson was out of surgery and could have a visitor. If all else failed, he could visit the next day. Thankfully, they had the first two games of the first round at home. _Win it for him. He got us this far._ Derek closed his eyes. He would try.

They won in second overtime.

\--

Jackson was awake the day after his surgery. Derek and Finstock went to the hospital and found Jackson resting in bed, watching the highlights of last night’s game. He looked at them and smiled, glancing behind them as though he was expecting the team to follow them. When he saw it was just the two of them, the smile lost some of its intensity and Derek wondered if there was someone else that Jackson was waiting to visit.

While Finstock spoke with Jackson, asking how he was and if there was anything he needed, Derek stared at his chest. He was recently cut open and had his lungs fixed. He would take at least six weeks to recover and another two months of training, before he was even allowed to think of getting back on the ice. Finstock didn’t stay for long and once they were alone, Derek sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out his gift for Jackson.

“I’m not sure if you’re allowed these, but I figured you just came out of surgery. It’s a crime not to let you have some,” he said as he handed over pixy sticks.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Jackson said, grabbing eagerly for the straws. Derek noticed that his left thumb was chewed on. “I’ve been going insane.”

Derek chuckled as Jackson shoved a straw in his mouth, chewing on it. “Well, now that Coach isn’t here, how are you? Really.”

Jackson paused in his chewing, staring at Derek in a strange way. It wasn’t how he usually stared at him. Derek wasn’t sure how it was different, but as he stared back, he realized that there wasn’t a sparkle in the eyes. For some reason, whenever Jackson used to look at him, there was usually some kind of smile in the eyes. Now, they were almost blank. They didn’t dance under the bright lights of the hospital.

They did dance as there was a grin. “Definitely a lot better than I was before the surgery,” he answered.

Derek smiled. “Good to know. It sucks that you aren’t on the ice with us, though. I think Danny has realized something is off. Don’t be surprised if he shows up here.”

“I’m counting on it,” Jackson said, tilting his head back and moaning as the sugar of the pixy stick tongued his tongue. Derek laughed and shook his head. Jackson leveled his head and raised an eyebrow. He chewed the empty straw. “Something funny, Mary?”

“You’re such a kid, Acker.” Derek ruffled his hair and Jackson pulled his head back. There was no playful glare this time, just a look of confusion. “I know, I know. You’re only eighteen, but still.”

“Only eighteen and I’ve already had surgery… I think that’s a record for a rookie that hasn’t been dropped on the ice.” Jackson removed the straw and licked his lips. “Thanks for the visit, Haler.”

Derek frowned and slipped off the bed, figuring that Jackson wanted some time alone. He smiled and nodded. “I’ll tell Danny what room you’re in.”

“Thanks.” Derek was almost at the door when Jackson called his nickname. “Haler.” Derek turned. “Don’t fuck up the games.”

Derek smirked. “Inspiring words, Acker,” he teased and laughed when Jackson flipped him the bird. “We’ll try our hardest, just for you.” Jackson stuck his tongue out.

They lost in game seven to Vegas.

* * *

During the summer break, Derek heard from the rest of the team. The only person that never messaged him directly was Jackson. If he was in group chats, he would respond, but he never reached out to talk to Derek. Considering he had surgery only a few months ago, Derek wasn’t bothered by it. He assumed Jackson had his own things going on during summer.

During training camp, it was the same. Jackson didn’t seem as warm as he was last year. He wasn’t a rookie anymore, but he took another under his wing. Derek worked with Aiden and their newest defenseman, a nineteen year old kid. Everything seemed normal and somehow completely different. Derek couldn’t quite put his finger on it, until he realized that Jackson was the same around everyone else, except him. There were times that it seemed like he went out of his way to avoid being alone with Derek.

Not knowing what he did wrong, Derek cornered Jackson in the locker room after training. The right winger was in his base layer and turned around, falling back into his locker. Derek shook his head and pulled Jackson upright. Mumbling his thanks, Jackson pulled off his shirt and Derek stayed where he was, crossing his arms. He was still in his full training gear.

“Something wrong, Mary?” Jackson asked, fingers hooking under his pants.

Derek kept his eyes on Jackson’s face, refusing to look at the body that was on display. “What did I do wrong?”

Jackson frowned. “What do you mean?”

Derek forced his anger back, reminding himself that he was team captain. “You know exactly what I mean. You avoid me, Acker. You act like you can’t hear me on the ice when I’m calling for the puck.” Jackson turned his head, staring down at the black rubber. “Tell me what I did wrong, so I can fix it.”

Jackson shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said with a shrug.

“Then why aren’t we friends anymore?”

Jackson looked up at him, the height difference massive with Derek still in his skates. “We are…aren’t we?”

“That’s what I’m asking you, Whittemore,” Derek snapped and Jackson’s eyes widened. “It seemed every time we were meant to see each other over the summer, you suddenly had something else to do. If I lied and said I wasn’t going to a barbeque, you would show up and then vanish the moment I entered. That tells me that I’ve done something wrong and you don’t want to see me. I’ve had to corner you like some animal in the locker room just to get an answer.”

Jackson lowered his head, crossing his arms over his chest. He was closing himself off and Derek sighed, stepping back. He never wanted any of his teammates to feel as though they couldn’t talk to him. But when they were being as stubborn and childish as Jackson was, he needed answers. If he had to go through Danny to get them, he would. He had a right to know what he’d done wrong, so he could find a way of fixing it before the season started.

Everything seemed fine, up until the surgery. Jackson didn’t seem that happy to see him. He appeared happier to see Finstock than his team captain, even with him bringing pixy sticks. He could admit that he might have been a little tipsy after their game against Toronto and if he overstepped a boundary by pinning Jackson to the bed, he needed to know. It was after that that Jackson requested a new roommate.

“Is this about what happened in Toronto?” Derek asked and Jackson frowned, confused and trying to remember. He didn’t know what Derek was talking about. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Acker.”

“What happened in Toronto?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Jackson honestly sounded clueless, like he had no memory of that night. “Do you remember anything of the time we were roommates?” he asked.

Jackson looked up, the frown deepening. “We were roommates? I thought I shared with Caller all the time.”

Derek couldn’t stop his mouth from dropping open. “We shared hotel rooms for two months, Acker. How can you not remember that?” Jackson shrugged. “Okay, this is…really weird.”

“If you say so, Mary.” Jackson turned his back to Derek and removed the final pieces of his base layer. “I’m gonna hit the showers and then pass out.”

Derek frowned down at the floor as he stripped. That wasn’t the Jackson Whittemore he went to college with or even the same guy from last season. This one was indifferent towards him, as though he knew he needed to show some respect because he was speaking with his captain, but that was it. There was no warmth, no smile and barely any eye contact. It really couldn’t be because of what happened in Toronto.

Jackson was fine after that night, despite wanting a new roommate. He still smiled when he and Derek locked eyes across the room. He still knew where Derek was on the ice and they were still a powerhouse couple. Jackson had asked Finstock to try him on different lines, as though he wanted to spend as little time as possible around Derek. Finstock seemed to understand and was trying Jackson with different players, just to see if any of them worked as well as him and Jackson.

That was the purpose of training camp. Derek just didn’t like the fact that Jackson was trying everything within his power to stay away from him. For the moment, it wasn’t affecting the team. None of them seemed to have noticed any difference in Jackson and they wouldn’t. He was normal around them. He laughed at their jokes, pushed them when they touched him. He didn’t jump like they were some monster from a horror movie.

Derek waited until the shower turned off, before he finished undressing. If Jackson didn’t want to be around him, he wouldn’t force it. Hopefully, someone would tell him something, so he could work on getting their relationship back to where it was.

After that day, Jackson was never alone in the locker room again.

\--

After a very good win over Detroit, the team went to a bar in the hotel they were staying at. Derek enjoyed a beer, not wanting to have more than that, as they needed to get up early the next morning. He grinned as he sat a booth with Isaac, Liam, Boyd and Scott. Jackson was at the bar, talking a rather pretty woman. Derek frowned as he noticed the smile was a little forced.

“I think our boy needs a wingman,” Boyd said, following Derek’s eyes. “Guess he’s not into models.”

Scott grinned, slipping out of the booth. He approached Jackson, slinging an arm around his neck and standing closer than he needed to. Derek knew that Scott was acting the boyfriend, but it still made him glare into his half-empty beer. Danny took Scott’s place at the table, telling Isaac that he would probably be back in later than usual. Isaac raised an eyebrow and nodded.

Derek finished his beer and knocked Boyd’s shoulder. “I gotta piss, man,” he said and Boyd frowned at him, slipping out of the booth.

Making his way to the bathroom, Derek paused to cut off a few of the other players, telling their roommates to get them upstairs. He didn’t need hungover players, throwing up on the plane. Once the wasted players were out of the bar, Derek went to the bathroom and sighed softly when he saw the urinals were taken. He stepped into a stall and took care of business, while the others finished and left the bathroom.

Doing up his pants, Derek paused when he heard a voice outside the stall. “I am, Mom.” It was Jackson. “I’m doing everything I can to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” There was a slight pause and Jackson sighed. “I can’t avoid him entirely! We’re on the same team.” Another pause and another sigh. “Yeah, I’m doing that. Yes, I’ve been making sure we aren’t alone. Yes, I’m sure there’s nothing lingering. Okay. I love you and Dad, too. I’ll talk to you later.”

Derek zipped his pants as Jackson washed his hands and left the bathroom. He flushed and washed his hands, thinking on the conversation. Jackson was avoiding someone on the team. Derek could only think of one person, himself. Something had happened that made Jackson want to avoid being near him. Something terrible.

Looking at his reflection, Derek wondered what he had done that was so horrible. Jackson didn’t remember what happened in Toronto. Hell, he didn’t even remember them sharing a room at all. It was as though all his memories of being alone with Derek were gone. Was that possible? Could something have gone wrong with the surgery that made him forget specific memories?

Out of the bathroom, Derek wasn’t surprised to see that Jackson and Scott had gone back to their room. Nothing good would come from Jackson knowing his conversation was overheard, anyway. It could lead to tension that wasn’t needed, especially since they just destroyed an Original Six team. Granted, that team hadn’t been much of a challenge for the last decade. That didn’t change the good feeling. Derek would let them keep it for that night. If things got more strained between him and Jackson, he would need to speak with someone.

\--

Things stayed the same for quite a while. It changed when the game before Christmas rolled around. Mistletoe had been set up all over the locker room and the team laughed as they kissed each other’s cheeks, getting into the silly season entirely. Derek grinned as he received kisses from the team after the game, except Jackson, of course. Derek almost thought that Jackson didn’t believe in mistletoe, until he saw the right winger kissing Scott, Isaac, Boyd and of course Danny.

After a quick shower and a quick word with the media, Derek left the stadium. He yawned as he ordered an Uber, glancing over his shoulder when he heard others. “Merry Christmas, guys,” he said and they grinned at him, waving as they headed on their way.

Liam and Isaac were the next ones out. Derek raised an eyebrow as a woman ran up to Isaac, throwing her arms around him, kissing him deeply. Liam grinned and Derek chuckled, shaking his head. Boyd received the same treatment from Erica. Danny and Jackson were the next pair out and Derek’s eyes widened when saw Aiden’s twin brother scoop Danny into his arms.

As more of the team came out and more partners arrived, Jackson was pushed over to Derek. “Merry Christmas, Acker,” Derek said. “You got plans to see family?”

“Yeah,” Jackson said, shoving a pixy stick into his mouth. “My parents are visiting for the day. You?”

“Don’t have much family left, but my uncle and sister always make the day fun,” Derek said with a soft smile, trying to forget the fire that claimed most of his family when he was in college. Laura had pushed him to focus on hockey, instead of losing himself to despair. When she was hit by a drunk driver, his uncle was the one to take over her place and push him to focus on hockey. It seemed everything in the universe was trying to turn him away from hockey. He glanced up and found Jackson staring at him. “I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

“It’s okay,” Jackson said with a shrug. “You don’t talk about it, though. I know you probably want to forget it, but you never did tell me if they caught the person that did it.”

Derek nodded, forgetting that he was in college with Jackson at the time. “Yeah, they caught her. It took them a year to prosecute her, but she’s in prison,” he said, eyes widening when Jackson hugged him. “It’s fine, Acker. You’re acting like it happened six months ago.”

Jackson sighed and didn’t pull back. “I’m adopted,” he said and Derek blinked. He didn’t know that. “My parents died before I was born, but I kind of understand the emptiness.”

Derek returned the hug, only for Jackson to pull back after a few seconds. “I never knew that,” he said softly and Jackson nodded.

“Strangely enough, I don’t need to bring it up often.” Derek laughed as Jackson grinned at him, before he turned his head and coughed.

“I told you to stop with the pixy sticks,” Derek said, flicking the straw hanging from Jackson’s mouth.

Jackson looked away from him, clearing his throat. “I should head off. See you after the break, Mary.”

Derek watched him hug Danny, Ethan and Lydia, before he headed for his car. Derek shook his head, praying it was only the sugar being breathed in. He wasn’t sure if he could go through Jackson needing surgery again. The right winger was needed if they wanted to win the Stanley Cup.

\--

After All Star, Derek heard from Finstock that Jackson was considering being traded. The right winger hadn’t given a reason and that was reason enough for Derek to drive over to his condo and storm up the stairs, as waiting for the elevator would take too long. He pounded the side of his fist on the door and waited, glaring at the polished wood. He heard a cough and then door opened.

Jackson stared at him with wide eyes, clearly surprised to see him there. “Wh…” He turned his head, hiding it behind the door as he coughed. Some of the anger Derek felt died off as the coughing continued. With a rasping breath, Jackson looked at him again. “What are you doing here?”

“I think we all have a right to know why you want to be traded,” Derek said and Jackson blinked at him. “Yeah, Finstock told me. Is this the same reason why you stopped being friendly to me, as well?”

“I didn’t…”

“You did, Whittemore. I have no idea what I did wrong, but I let it go because it didn’t affect your game or mine. But now you’re avoiding practice and you wanna be traded? _What_ did I do wrong?” Derek didn’t care that he sounded desperate. He was almost on the verge of tears knowing he had done something so bad that Jackson would prefer to leave the team than fix it.

“ _You_ didn’t do anything wrong,” Jackson said with a glare. He turned his head again as he coughed. “It was me.”

Derek frowned, moving to the side of the door. “It has something to do with me, Acker. I know it does. I’m the one you shut out after surgery.”

Jackson looked at him, eyes filled with worry. No, he was terrified that Derek knew something he wasn’t meant to and that had Derek scared. What could Jackson have done to make him fear Derek finding out? As far as Derek knew, none of them had killed anyone in a hotel bathroom. He couldn’t a hundred percent sure of that, but he trusted his team not to do something that insane.

“Talk to me, Jacks,” Derek said.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Haler. I wanna be traded. That’s all it is.”

Derek frowned as another coughing fit took over Jackson, strong enough to have him fall to his hands and knees. “I’m coming in,” he said and pushed the door open. His eyes widened when he saw yellow petals behind the door, along with a few actual poppies. More were being added as Jackson coughed them up. “Oh shit, Jacks. Why didn’t you tell me it was this?”

“How could I? Coughing up flowers, because I’m stupidly in love with someone that doesn’t love me?”

Derek knelt beside Jackson, picking up one of the poppies. They had been his mother’s favorite flower and he fell in love with them, as a way to remember her. “Who is it, Jacks? We can fix this.”

Jackson sighed and plucked a petal from his mouth. “You, Derek. I love you,” he said, dropping the petal. “That’s why I wanna be traded, so I don’t have to see you every day, feel this every day. Know I’m fighting a losing battle every day.”

Derek stared at Jackson, unsure if he was hearing that correctly. The words were definitive, but Jackson hadn’t glanced at him as he continued to cough up the poppies. Derek blinked at the flowers, figuring he should have put two and two together, but he doubted he was the only one that had the yellow poppy as his favorite flower.

“It got worse after Toronto. I thought that if I had a different roommate, it would get better. It didn’t. The doctor suggested surgery and Finstock was against it, initially. When I told him who I loved, he decided it would be best to have them removed. Then Christmas happened and I was a complete fucking moron!” Jackson coughed out another two poppies.

Derek turned Jackson’s face towards him, not surprised when he refused to look up. “Do I get a say in this or have you just decided that I’ll never love you?”

“I can have the surgery again,” Jackson said, finally looking at him. Tears filled his eyes and Derek brushed them away. “But I can’t have it every time I let my guard down around—”

Derek pressed his mouth to Jackson’s, enjoying the softness of his lips. He pulled back, seeing Jackson staring at him. “I’ve been in love with you since college, Jacks. Since I first saw you take to the ice and dominate with your soft hands. I didn’t do anything about it, because I’m your captain. I’m sorry.” Jackson dropped his head and Derek sat down, pulling the winger onto his lap, nuzzling into his neck. “I thought I’d scared you in Toronto. I wanted to apologize, but you wouldn’t talk to me. Then you got the surgery and shut me out entirely.”

“I’m sorry,” Jackson said, taking one of Derek’s hands and holding it tightly. “I was trying to work up the courage just to tell you I was gay. Then when Toronto happened…I figured you were drunk and that you would never do that while sober. If I couldn’t tell you that I like men, how could I tell you that I love you?”

“You’ve done it twice, so far,” Derek murmured into his neck, smirking when Jackson shivered. “I didn’t know how to tell you, either. I love you. I even love your weird obsession with pixy sticks.”

Jackson relaxed against him and Derek heard his breathing clearing up. Looking at his face, Derek frowned when he saw his eyes closed. He placed two fingers to the throat and exhaled when he felt the pulse. He smiled and wrapped his arms around Jackson, kicking the door shut. If he was lucky, knowing that Derek loved him would keep Jackson in Wisconsin. They had a real shot for the Cup and he didn’t want a long-distance relationship. He frowned when his phone vibrated and checked the message from Finstock and Danny.

 _You two finally admit it?_ Derek grinned and pulled the sleeping Jackson closer to him. He would tell Finstock later and he had no doubt that Jackson would tell Danny. Until then, he was going to enjoy the closeness with Jackson, even if they were surrounded by yellow poppies.

* * *

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it.
> 
> Special thanks to guestSissy for suggesting the story. Don't know if you're ever gonna read it, but I hope you liked it.
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


End file.
